Mum's last day...
If there was one way mum loved best to recover from a vigorous day of shagging, it was with a hot bath the next morning. Little did she know that since it was the last day before she went back home, I'd prepared a treat to really wow her with; something to leave her extra sad to have to go.
In a way I suppose that was me projecting my own feelings onto her, but only because I wasn't physically able to go with her – not at that time – otherwise I would have. No, she would have to go and we would have to rein in our deepening feelings for each other. It would be akin to two hearts being glued together and having to be torn apart. It was going to hurt.
Now Sara splashed and tunefully hummed to herself in the tub, late that morning, and for a while I stood on the landing, smiling to myself and straining in my shorts, because I knew what my plans would lead to, eventually. I'm a bad little boy at heart, it's true, but I liked to leave a good impression in the end.
I opened the door, wafting thick day-lit steam as I went, and when I saw my mother filling the bath with her voluptuous form – particularly those luscious big boobs all wet and glistening the way they were – I beamed a smile and commented how happy she sounded.
Contently she smiled back as if to say that I should have known very well why she was happy enough to be singing. 'Feeling awake and refreshed?' I asked.
'Mmmm,' she purred, 'I'm fine, darling, but you haven't half left me stiff and sore after these past few days.' Still her eyes said thank you – a big thank you!
'Well it just so happens I have something for that,' I pitched in as I knelt beside the tub and began to trace a finger from her perspiring shoulder, along the curve of the breast closest to hand, and then around the nipple. 'Something to work the kinks out...'
'Hmmm, sounds interesting,' Sara responded dreamily.
'Finish your bath, towel off, and come into the bedroom when you're ready, and I will treat you to something you will definitely enjoy,' I told her, and then kissed her on the forehead. I left her to it, hearing the loud sigh fill the bathroom behind me as I closed the door. It was almost a moan. Again I grinned to myself and went to prepare her surprise.
2
The men who sit at computers for a living get a bad reputation, I believe. Or maybe the problem is that we lack reputation where it counts. Because I "push pencils", or push buttons to be more acute, you wouldn't expect me to have any real practical skills or talents.
I don't follow trends and I don't play a guitar. I don't have aspirations other than to please the women (or woman) in my life. I'm boring to the outside world even though I do like to give as good as I get when drama rears its ugly head.
One thing I do have is a very capable pair of hands when it comes to pleasing the opposite sex, and it occurred to me that whereas my mother was no stranger to them, and sexually, she had never experienced the full-body massages that were once reserved solely for the woman who eventually betrayed me.
Shortly after Sara showered off the bath water and then dried herself off, she came sauntering into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel on her head. I stood there still grinning, trying to be as proper as could be expected of me, dressed down in a vest and a pair of lounge shorts.
On the bed lay a few fresh white bath towels, duvet neatly folded away. And on the bedside table lay the last bottle of massage oil that I had bought but didn't get to use some months back. I told her to lie down on the bed, face down, and to relax. The central heating was on just enough to keep her warm, but strategically also to stop me from sweating all over her once my muscles were getting a good workout on her.
Mum pouted, smiled only with her eyes, approving of my plan. She climbed onto the bed, making sure I got a good eyeful of the goods – her swaying tits, her curvaceous bottom, and other things. No, I reminded myself, this is not going to turn into another incest porno. For once I may have been right. It wasn't long before mum was off in her own little world.
I warmed some oil in the palm of my hand and began to go to work, starting at her legs and thoroughly greasing her up to the top of her thighs to the soundtrack of her pleasured mumblings.
Though Sara is a voluptuous woman, soft and desirable and plentiful in her own beautiful way, she carries it all on the frame of a strong and independent woman. I consistently groped and pinched and kneaded for a long time at her calf muscles, and then her thighs, easing the tension out of her hamstrings and keeping her well-oiled.
And though it wasn't the most erotic thing, nor was it intended to be overwhelmingly erotic, I hoped that she was enjoying the sense of intimacy that I was, and especially as I moved up to begin at her bottom, which would require a LOT of attention from yours truly.
And then my mother starts to murmur, in a way that is irremovable of the many times in history that Homer Simpson found himself thinking about donuts. Well, there was one thing that separated her and Homer, at least. Even through the fruity aromatic scent of the oil I was certain that I could sense her arousal...
You try getting your mother's juices going for a few good years and then you tell me it's a forgettable scent. Hers always made me dizzy with desire, and that was what I was starting to feel by the time I'd worked my way up her spine to her shoulders and groped her into a coma.
When I asked her to turn around and to lie on her back, she uttered a naughty giggle under her breath and she asked me if I was sure I wanted that. 'Massage parlour rules,' I told her. 'I can't extort you for a job well done if you force me to finish with only half a job done.'
When she turned onto her side to adjust her position, I could instantly see why she was apprehensive of having to move. Her pussy had saturated the towel beneath her, leaving a big wet spot behind. Her face was a picture of sleepy bliss. Maybe, I thought, she didn't even realise just how turned on she was at this point.
'Enjoying it so far, mum?' I probed.
'Hmmm,' I never realised just what wonderful therapeutic hands you have,' she said almost deliriously, before obediently lying on her back and shaking the weighty feeling out of her hands. 'I may drift off...'
'You go right ahead if you want to,' I encouraged. 'I'll wake you later if you do. You deserve a good rest.'
'Hmmm,' she agreed, already slipping away. So next I started with her arms, specifically from the fingers and hands upward. As I did, now I could gauge her reaction by her face. And as I did that, I found myself drifting for a while. Sara clearly delighted in the feel of having her hands played with, which she signified with a whimsical smile – eyes closed.
I oiled my way up the wrists, to her elbows and to her shoulders, taking extra special care to be gentle, more emphasis placed on the power of touch rather than force. For some reason I just could not prevent myself from brushing up against her heavy breasts – her nipples now thick and erect – and becoming mesmerised by their responsive movements.
I stifled a mischievous chuckle. Immediately so did she. It was time to move on. 'I'm going to work on your feet now. If they get too ticklish, feel free to tell me to stop,' I said. For the next twenty minutes I had a perfect view of her exposed pussy, which gleamed wetly with her not so modest arousal.
Rather than do the gentlemanly thing of climbing between her legs and fixing her plumbing with my wagging tongue, I decided – fuck it, but not that way – I was going to leave her horny like an evil bastard instead. That was the plan. I was going to stick to it.
But my willpower waned as I once again made my way up her legs and gradually found myself wrestling with her gorgeously thick thighs. One hand working the outside of each leg, and the other working the inside, her legs were now spread to allow me ease of access. And as I worked my way to the very top of her thighs, the knuckles of one hand could not avoid grazing against her wetness and stirring her up, leaving her to wrestle with her own urges.
For those long minutes her deep and even breathing had turned to near-panting and whimpering. Rather strategically I moved up to her shoulders and neck. 'You rrrr a wicked tease,' she slurred. Her eyes seemed closed at first glance, but upon longer inspection, I could make out that she was ever so slightly peeking out through the thinnest slits in her eyelids.
'I don't know what you mean, mum,' I said innocently, thumbing gently along the sides of her neck and up to her ears behind the jaw. Those were amongst her special places, along what's called the great auricular nerve. Know how to use your fingers right and it works for everyone. Work that part well enough and you have yourself one sleepy customer.
'Oh what the hell,' I mumbled to myself when her light snoring became apparent. Mum's breaths were deep and even, her breasts heaving up into the air and back down again, like the waves on the ocean.
I took the bottle of oil and liberally poured it over her naked torso, from just above her belly button to the valley between those magnificent peaks. I no longer cared about making a mess. I stealthily began to distribute the oil across her torso, but mostly over and around her breasts, and shivered at the feel of those thickened nipples as they tickled the slippery palms of my hands.
Either time slowed down or I was there for a very long time, cupping those soft, heavy mounds, squeezing them, squashing them together, and thoroughly pinching and pulling at those nipples. I was tempted to take them into my mouth, to suck on them and nibble them, and all manner of other things, but just in awe at the sight of my mother's oily, slippery body, as she snoozed away – just the sight of her ample delights – all curves and contours – glistening in the afternoon light, I became mesmerised again and continued to play away with those beautiful tits.
I was disturbed some time later by a polite cough, and Sara looking at me, then down her naked body and back to me. I didn't stop. 'Those aren't muscles, dear,' she informed me.
'Shhh, mum,' I silenced her. 'I'm making milkshakes!'
3
Surprisingly, I cannot say whether my plan worked or whether it spectacularly backfired. That night after a rather ordinary family day of dinner in town and a movie that evening – Trains, Planes & Automobiles was a strange choice of film to watch that time of year, but it's still one of our favourites – mum announced that she would be sleeping in the spare room to make sure she was up early enough to prepare for the trip back home.
Yes, I wanted to tease her a little before she left so that we would have something to look forward to when we met again. Well I'd clearly confused myself as now I was kicking myself. By bedtime I was thinking how I wanted to shag her brains out while I still had the chance, but she was too happy to have herself an early night... alone.
Sleep took me at around 1am, I think, and whereas I did enjoy the extra sprawl space here and there, I woke up at half six with one seriously hard and throbbing case of morning glory. There I lay flat on my back, not thinking too hard about what to do with the thing – the window open, the birds outside singing, and the sunlight of a dazzling day glowing brilliantly against the slightly parted blinds.
I always kept a bottle of lubricant handy in the bedside drawer. It wasn't long before I was treating myself to an absurdly pleasurable slippery masturbation session, one hand pressing down on my mons as I thrust up my pelvis for maximum length, and the other making full use of every inch I had.
I'm proud of the fellow, I am, but my self-love sessions aren't to the point of having a cock fixation. I'm just happy that I can use very well what I have to work with, and that I have plenty of it.
I heard her purr her approval from the open bedroom door some time later. It was just as well that I was planning to make playtime last. Once upon a time I'd have lurched in horror and scrambled to hide innocently beneath the covers, as if I had nothing to hide. Now I simply looked over to her, mildly surprised to see her awake so early – and wearing that same sexy nightie that she had the first night – and I treated her to a little show.
I cracked open the bottle and drizzled more lube over myself, like ketchup and mustard to a hotdog, and there was a lot of it by the time I was ready to continue. And as I started over, gripping my sticky, slippery shaft in my fist and slickly sliding up and down over it, she joined me in my sleepy gasps of delight.
'You're up early,' I figured I'd mention after all, the straining head of my cock squishing loudly between my thumb and forefinger.
'So are you,' was the double-entendre. Sara's eyes were fixed on my jacking motions. 'Go slower or you won't last.'
I took her advice, also making a point of giving her the best view I could. 'I don't have a problem lasting, ' I informed her, as if she wouldn't know anything about that.
'No but it's hotter,' she admitted.
'Are you just going to stand there?'
'Mmmhmm,' she nodded, grinning. 'What would you have me do?'
'You know what I'd do,' I told her straight, 'but you could join me if you wanted to...'
Sara chuckled softly, still refusing to play along. She was playing her own game now, the deceitful minx.
'Or...'
'Or?'
'We could squish our bits together until they squirt,' I suggested filthily.
'You dirty bastard,' she laughed. 'Where is my son?'
'Not in your pussy that's for sure,' I groaned, arching my back and lifting my hips off the bed as I increased pressure and tempo once again. She laughed to herself and walked away, and frankly I was beyond belief. The lock of the bathroom door clicked then and soon she was singing in the shower.
4
I saw my mother off to the train station after lunch, but not before she surprised me with a long and terribly teasing blowjob, then reminding me of all I'd have to look forward to if I decided to move back home. She knew that the deal was as good as done and that I was done with my current job. She knew that I was miserable here on my own, and especially with the prospect of having to see "The Bitch" around town with her replacement cuck.
I was no cuck, let me make that perfectly clear. If I was, she would still be here and my life would have jack shit going for it – no, the manipulative cunt had moved on because I was not the complete pushover she grew to mistake me for.
Just because I loved her enough to suffer as so many strong women suffered for the men they loved, I had tried to walk the straight and narrow and to maintain what we had. I was a fool, not a cuck. I didn't need to be reminded either.
As blind luck would have it, the reminded came to my front door three weeks later, and in fact while I was in the midst of packing up, getting ready to leave.
Everything was finalised with work. After trying everything to get me to stay, my manager had replaced me quickly and let me get on with things at home, so I ordered a skip and filled it with all the shit I didn't need. I was going to start afresh, taking only my clothes, my paperwork, and my entertainment.
I was none too pleased to see Carol and in spite of what she was doing here, she didn't seem too happy to see me either. She had to swallow a lot of pride to ask me how I was doing, to pretend to be interested, and to say that she was wrong to do what she did.
That didn't make any of it alright, or acceptable, or forgivable – at least not to the point that I would invite her in, which was what she wanted.
I remember very clearly that she somehow looked darker all over, and in an unhealthy way. She had the slight appearance of black smudges around her eyes and seemed pale by contrast. She had bags under her eyes too, and thinner cheeks. She'd clearly lost weight.
I should have felt sorry for her, but thinking about it since she had left me, I could only feel that she had brought it on herself and that she would not change for anyone. The only thing that had changed was her loyalty, if she had ever truly been loyal to me.
'Listen, it was a mistake and I've been kicking myself ever since. I think you owe me that-
'Whoaaaa!!' I halted loudly. 'I don't owe you anything, Carol. I'm moving away. I'm done with this city and I'm done with this house and I'm done with you,' I went on. 'Now I'm glad you've seen the error of your ways, but those are your ways and I'm not accountable or responsible for them.'
Her upper lip curled up in utter detest for me. I could see that what little patience she'd had, or what little chance she knew she had, was already up.
'Oh yeah that's right, run away,' she spat bitterly. 'Do you know why I left you?'
'Because you were fucking a walking talking dick wart and it was all you ever dreamed of?' I challenged. Her head bobbed madly on her shoulders at that. Offence muted her for a glorious few seconds, while she burned red with anger.
'I gave you all the chances you needed and you just kept taking me for granted,' she screamed. The professional, calm and calculated Carol was now gone. Here stood the real thing before me. I was now only sad that I'd fallen for it all along. The nonsensical bile streaming from her mouth meant nothing to me. 'I practically mothered you. I'm surprised you lasted this long on your own. But no, you just turn your back on me like you always did?'
'Like when?' I asked out of sheer disbelief. 'Tell me when I ever turned my back on you?' She had no answer. I searched deeper, hacked my way beyond the surface to see whether this was really just some twisted perceived reality of hers, or if she was as full of shit as I thought she was. 'I'll fucking tell you what I did. I turned a blind eye to your bitterness, your nitpicking, your petty fucking arguments, and I even told myself a thousand times that you weren't the kind of horrid bitch to be fucking around behind my back; telling myself over and over that I was just pathetic and paranoid!'
'Well,' she murmured, close to tears. She crossed her arms and snarled at me. 'Well...'
There was nothing left to say, except; 'There's your shit in the skip. If you need money you can drag it to the Cash Generator up the high street. Just remember that I owe you nothing and that I never want to see you again!'
'Please,' she whimpered. I might have fallen for it only weeks ago, had her tear ducts not already dried up. 'Give me a chance. Please. I'll make up for everything. You'll see.'
'Carol,' I said, restless with impatience, but then I had to laugh it off – even if defensively – before I concluded; 'There aren't enough antibiotics or antidepressants in the world to make taking you back remotely humanly possible.'
Okay, so I'm not a bad boy. I'm an evil shit. But then you reap what you sow!
5
Home again...
I couldn't have been happier as I was the day I strolled up the garden path to my mother's house for the first time in what felt like forever. The old neighbourhood hadn't changed at all, so it appeared on the surface.
The suburbs back home were gloriously peaceful. The sun was shining. I had so much to look forward to, and so much I'd already left behind. I guess you could say that I was in a sunshine state of mind.
I had my old keys in my pocket, ready to open that door again and to waltz into my mother's life again, but instead I decided to ring the doorbell. I wanted to see the look on her face as she opened the door to see me standing there, grinning with that bulky travel case stood beside me.
Almost hysterically she greeted me with a shower of manic kisses, her arms squeezing the life out of me. 'I'm back,' I groaned with what little lung room her bear hug afforded me.
'Oh son, I couldn't be happier or more excited,' Sara beamed as she shook me from side to side on my feet. She wasn't the only one. We went inside, closed the door, and for a very long time we silently hugged and held each other.
6
Originally we had planned to invite Elaine to dinner the day I arrived. Many of you may understand what these situations are like. Nothing ever goes to plan. These affairs are usually drawn out as a result of shyness or circumstance.
It was understandable, in our situation, that meeting Elaine would be a little awkward, to say the least. I mean what civilised things does one talk about when you're in an intensely sexual relationship with your mother and where your mother is also in a secret bisexual relationship with your guest?
I was a bit relieved initially because it would give me more time to work out in my mind how the immediate future could possibly play out to everybody's advantage without ruining the potential it had.
I was more than eager to bed the MILF-next-door fantasy of my teens. Even though she was clearly wanting sex with a younger guy, specifically the son of her secret lover, it had to be under the right circumstances. I didn't know what those circumstances would be as of yet. Time would tell.
Elaine's excuse that night was that her two daughters were taking her out to dinner to celebrate some mystery – part of the surprise by the sound of it – and so that left mother and I with time to get settled into our new life.
Mum went shopping that afternoon and was adamant she would go alone. She wanted to make us a nice dinner. She wanted to surprise me and in her own words she couldn't exactly surprise her man by dragging him to the market. So I stayed home and unpacked, then read a bit of a book in my bedroom before taking a shower.
I was not disappointed that evening. I had never seen a sirloin as big as the one served up to me at dinnertime. It was two inches thick, seared on all sides, seared and cooked to perfection with just the slightest hint of red at the centre. We salivated and moaned both our approvals as we at our steaks with stuffed Portobello mushrooms and grilled tomatoes. Then followed ice cream and food comas!
Later we milled around, chatted, hugged on the sofa and watched TV. It was a nice return to form and welcome home. As night approached we got onto the subject of Elaine and how we might go about that fantasy a reality. Come to think of it, everybody in that potential little love triangle had their own designs it seemed.
Yes, I wanted to bed Elaine, as previously mentioned. Sara also wanted at some point the opportunity to watch. Oh but also Sara and I both wanted for me to see her, my mother, having sex with Elaine. And Elaine wanted to watch me with Sara. The possibilities were dizzying. Maybe there was even more to it, once boundaries were comfortably crossed.
'The problem is who makes the first move?' I asked.
'I don't see any problem,' was her reply.
'I just mean how do we get to that point, whichever way it goes?'
'We'll work it out,' Sara said without a worry. 'We're all interested and we're all consenting adults. I suppose we could-
The doorbell interrupted us. We looked at each other. Seconds later we were at the door and who else but Elaine had called in to welcome me home. It was all very natural and friendly, as if there was nothing beyond friendly neighbours chatting away on the off-chance. My smile never faltered, and for that matter, neither did my gaze.
Elaine as I have previously mentioned was 48 years old. A tall brunette with wild curly hair that ran down to her middle-back, friendly grey eyes, and a hint of Greek – think an older and softer Angie Harmon from Rizzoli & Isles with more motherly hips.
'So are you settled in now Steven?' she asked me with a grin a mile wide, and it was easy to see that spirits were high. She'd had a few to celebrate her oldest daughter Anna's engagement. Dutch courage and happy thoughts – why not drop by and break the ice?!
'Happy to be home again,' I beamed back at her, reeling at the thought that this woman knew more than just my relationship with my mother. So it was easy for Elaine to rock me on my feet with what came next.
'We'll talk soon,' she assured. 'Sara has my number, obviously, and she will pass it over to you so you can call me when you're free. It's nice to see you again and I'll be going home to pass out now!'
That she did.
'Well that's that, then,' mum said and uttered a short burst of laughter, touching her blushing cheeks. In fact she was a little more than red in the cheeks. Radiating colour and holding her hand to her chest, she was highly flustered. 'This feels unreal.'
'Doesn't it just?' I agreed. She smiled up at me with just a slight devilish twinkle in her eye.
She sighed. 'So it looks like you'll be getting to know one another quite well, and quite soon!'
'I love you, mum,' I declared off the cuff. 'Thank you for being shamelessly you always!'
'Well,' she supposed, pushing herself into me, boobs and all; 'If you can't be yourself then who should you be?'
I cupped her cheeks in my hands and planted a big wet smacker on her lips at that. 'Either way, all yours,' was my answer. She kept her chin tilted upward, inviting another. I kissed her softly, inhaling her sweet scent.
'I'm getting ready for bed,' she said and made her way upstairs.
And shortly after I followed suit, locking all the doors and windows, turning off the lights, heading up the stairs and towards my room – that was when she heard the floorboard creak and called my name.
'Where are you going?' she asked from within her bedroom.
'I'm going to my room,' I said innocently.
'Then you're going the wrong way,' she replied. I pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, wandering in to find her. She stood at the window wearing a white satin robe that shimmered in the bedside light. That devilish twinkle was still there.
She closed the blinds, blocking out the night and turned fully to face me, then after a pause she padded barefoot around the bed and came to a standstill before me. 'This is yours now,' she said with a voice as soft as smoke. 'Your room, our room... your bed...'
'Our bed,' I responded to finish her sentence. At that the devilish twinkle grew into a wickedly smouldering smile as she nodded.
'And it's our first night together in our bed, so...'
The robe slipped easily from her shoulders, leaving me lost for words at what hid beneath – lost for words, lost for breath, lost for where to begin.
My mother now stood before me in a see-through sheer black lace bodysuit, and I had never seen her wear anything so exotic, or erotic, and it hugged her form perfectly, from her curvaceous hips, to her soft shapely tummy, and – not least – her heart-achingly beautiful big tits.
I couldn't tell which of us was overdressed for what was about to happen, but as I immediately tightened and strained against the inside of my jeans, neither of us would be clothed for very long.
7
She let my hands explore her body for a long time as we stood there pressed together. Face to face, my hands roamed the contours of her back and bottom, feeling her skin through the ultra-thin lace and hearing from her lips in light whimpers what my hands did to her.
'Do you like it?' she whispered in my ear as I planted kisses along one shoulder.
'I can't tell if my heart is in my pants or in my throat,' I confessed.
She cupped the hard bulge forcing its way along the path of least resistance, namely at the thigh of my left leg, and felt for a pulse. 'I think I've found it,' she quipped. With a few well-practiced movements, my belt was undone and the front of my pants were wide open. Sara then whipped the t-shirt off my body, right over my head, and proceeded to explore my torso with her hungry hands, as if for the first time.
I kicked off my shoes and returned to my mother's body to compliment her exploration of flesh with my own. And I could not get enough of her in that bodysuit – the only woman I could still trust with my happiness and with my deepest feelings. Her body was a ripe piece of fruit, ready to be peeled naked, to drip with the sweetest juices, to be licked and sucked and devoured.
She had the same thoughts about me it seemed. Handling my hardening cock she fished it right out of my pants and took it in both hands, loving it carefully like a fine sculpture and feeling it all over. She directed me to our bed, lay me down, and proceeded to pull off the rest of my clothes before initiating the slowest and most sensual bout of cock sucking I had ever experienced with her; all the while maintaining eye contact with me.
I dared not to close my eyes or to look away. There was nothing else to see anyway, but for the way she worked me with her warm and gentle mouth. That and the sensation of her lace-encased breasts sliding up against my thighs had me giddy and fighting not to speak gibberish over the sweet words she spoke to me when her hands replaced her mouth.
'We've gone so far – crossed so many lines and boundaries – haven't we, son?' she asked. 'Lived out our fantasies with each other...'
'We have,' was all I could say, and breathlessly.
'Learned each other's bodies inside and out and shared so much,' Sara went on. 'And I've fallen in love with you over and over...'
'I fall deeper for you every time,' I gushed proudly, and so happily. The smile my mother radiated then melted my heart and aroused stirrings within me all the same. She climbed my body and rested her body upon mine, leaving me with a full frontal of her heaving breasts, now squeezed tight against me.
'So then I'm guessing you want what I want, more than anything else right now,' she hinted with that smile. Which was; 'To make true love with you mother in our bed?'
No longer in my pants, my heart came hard, bursting against my chest with a gasp. The long passionate kisses we shared in that moment were enough to drive me over the edge already. I was so hard for her, and pulling aside the gusset of her lace lingerie, I found her to be exceptionally juicy.
Sitting up, my mother lowered the stringy straps of her body suit off her shoulders and made a show of slowly peeling the garment from her breasts, gauging my reaction; which was to stare intensely until her hard nipples became exposed, whereupon I bent to latch my lips to them – one at a time – and to suck like an overgrown baby.
Together we peeled off the rest, exposing my mother's sweet pink sex, her eyes following mine down her body to where she dripped with feverish steam heat, waiting to be fulfilled.
'You love your mother's pussy so much, don't you?'
'I love all of my mother,' I declared, my hands all over her, and she pushed me back down to straddle me.
'And you're going to,' she purred. 'But first...'
Perfectly hard and pointing to the sky, I throbbed and ached for her, conveyed my hunger to her through my eyes. Immediately she impaled herself on me, slowly sinking down until we were reunited, and coming back down to embrace me in her arms – nurturing me with her breasts – and to kiss with me as we mated.
I lay completely in awe of how my mother loved me for the next half hour or so, languidly riding us to bliss with a graceful purpose she had never shared before. There was a renewed youth and passion and one of a completely different nature, even after our week of "making babies together" a month ago.
After laying down to recover a little while I treated her to a lovingly deep and slow licking, turned on by the fact that I could taste my own essence in her pink love pot. And then before long my cock was melting deep into her, feeling her squeeze and suck around my length as she gazed admirably up at me.
'I love being with you sexually, like this,' she cooed dreamily. 'Having you moving around inside me, the way you make me come. It's like giving birth to my baby over and over again. I can't tell you how it feels.'
That gave me an edge, a new found hardness which I used to best effect. I slowed down and resolved to seduce her sex, her love, her whole being, with my masterful deep strokes, holding her in my arms and kissing her like a long-time lover; which she was.
'I feel so safe and loved inside you, I don't ever want to stop,' I told her and felt myself tempted towards the point of no return.
'Come with me,' mother urged, sensing the build-up. She led the way, her gasps leading to moans leading to the sweetest cries. Her body bucking under me, back arching and breasts ballooning against me, our hips found their natural conclusion – the ending to their mating dance – and soon I was right there with her, our burning sexes fusing in frantic soaking copulation.
'Mother,' I whispered with a short ragged breath, which took us both over the edge when its meaning hit home. I blasted her womb with a full load – such an intense and deep satisfaction to seed your own mum – and didn't stop until I was bone dry and she logged and oozing with my come.
Of course, we had all night to make love again and again, at the end of which my fully satisfied and loved up mother, Sara, kissed longingly and tenderly with me, before whispering sleepily in my ear...
'Welcome home, lover.'
------X------
The very next morning I awoke lying on my side, spooning Sara, my mother. I was first aware of myself being semi-erect and sensitive to the heat generated between my body and hers. I was pressed against her full apple bottom, nestled between her buttocks, and not daring to move and to rouse her just yet I revelled in all that I was feeling in those waking moments.
The night prior I had made love to my mother in her bed like never before - "our bed," as she'd said.
It was not just meant as a consummation of how we felt about each other, but as a stronger bonding moving forward in life. A new kind of relationship was opening up, one in which we were going to explore adult life together with less of society's stupid standards.
I was back home, but I was now also coming around to the reality that I was now the man of the house, her man, her lover, but to the outside world a confident mama's boy who didn't care what the Carols of the world thought or said.
In a way it was overwhelming to think about, but we weren't being stupid about it. We weren't fucking around with thoughts of getting married, thinking we could get away with something like that.
We were loving each other the way some families do, just very, very intimately!
Right now life was strange, strange but undeniably great. The dark days of unhappiness in a doomed relationship were gone. My mother and I had been in a physical relationship long before Carol, but now it was different. Absence had made the heart fonder. Past encounters romanticised on account of loneliness had fuelled something greater, more confident, unabashed.
But the bonds were tighter, the love stronger, the expression of that love unlimited. I could love her like I tried to love Carol, who for some fear of intimacy with me ran off to fuck the worst kind of parasite. I was not going to suffer her. Sara was not going to let me.
Sara wasn't afraid of that level of intimacy, of embracing what we had. We weren't going to let each other go to waste, to suffer fools.
Family to my mother and I now meant giving each other what nobody else could, which was really just like an infinite cycle when you think about it. Not even spouses in this day and age give each other the unconditional love a mother and son develop for each other.
Thinking about that long and passionate night, I could still feel it in my flesh, my blood, the tingling nerves that had explored her, caressed her, penetrated her, and fell prey to her prowess and sexual appetite as a lover.
My sex throbbed as though the afterglow of that burning love still remained, and fondly I found myself back in the familiar old territory -- that sexual limbo where to be sated left me forever hungry for more.
For moments I just lay there, feeling myself harden hopelessly against the smooth flesh of her rump, and thought about the next time she would invite me to couple with her. And happily I thought the rudest thoughts about us as I watched her shoulders rise and fall with deep but silent breaths.
The morning air was cool though bright sunshine pierced the blinds of the bedroom bay window. If I could have hazarded a guess, the vivid golden hue and the angle of the light told me that the sun was still low in the sky. I heard no traffic, only the chatter of birds, but I didn't dare look at the clock.
Moved by another inevitable urge, I gently pulled away from Sara and eased myself out of bed, heading to the bathroom to relieve myself, and after some quick thought I crept down to the kitchen to make coffee, revelling in the refreshing chill against my sleep-heated skin, even as it caused my cock and balls to "shy away" a little.
After helping myself to a cup and feeling stimulated and relaxed at once, I headed back to the bedroom -- to our bedroom, and to our bed -- and slid back in under the duvet to relish both the cooling of the cover sheet and the welcoming warmth of my mother's voluptuous naked form.
I wrapped myself around her lovingly, and instantly she began to respond, first with a hiss as my cooled flesh contrasted her hotness, and then with a delighted moan as our bodies writhed together to spoon deeply.
I became instantly hard again, my cock erecting itself like a flower in time-lapse, only seeking the sun where it didn't shine. And as I grew between her upper thighs, as she wiggled and gyrated her bottom against me, aided by my hand now gripping her exposed hip, we both sank into each other and just loved for a while the feeling of sleepy, naked, smooth flesh on flesh.
I leaned back away from her, spasming into a hard stretch, forcing out a happy yawn, which made my hard length brush up against the once taboo place that I was now all too familiar with. Her pubic hair tickled the sensitive tip of my penis, which was now so hard that it shone like a little pink balloon.
I felt more like a horse drawn to water, seeking moisture, and angled myself differently to rest at a warmer, damper spot. Mother gasped sleepily, prodded back with the weight of her posterior, and then hissed again, betraying my position.
I knew better than to push too hard just then though. I didn't want to drill for water, I wanted it to come to me. So with the slightest movements I nudged at her hot spot with my throbbing hardness over and over, listening to Sara's faintest gasps multiply and fall into the very rhythm with which I teased her.
It wasn't long before her round backside rolled toward me, and it was me gasping as first I was met with the sight of one gorgeous plump 36F breast spilling over, the thick punk nub of a nipple, almost as erect as I was, and then her lazy blue eyes smiling at me from beneath the bed-ridden mess of her blonde hair.
At first she propped herself up on one elbow, regarding me with what appeared to be mirth and a sexy shyness I didn't know she was capable of at this point in our lives, but as her eyes rounded, became more alert, and her gaze penetrated me, she then relaxed back into the pillows and together we just gazed away in silence.
She took her lower lip into her own mouth, bit down softly on it as her cheeks began to flush, and there again was that shyness, made all the more apparent when her shoulders hunched. She relaxed and took a deep breath. I made my move.
Leaning across I snaked my exposed arm around her waist and slid my lower body toward her while pulling hers into me. Her leg slid up to rest on my hip as our faces next began to close the distance.
Playfully I blew her messy blonde fringe away from her forehead, eliciting a soft, almost soundless giggle from her smiling lips. I gazed wantonly, as though I could psychically project my thoughts and feelings onto the fore of her conscious mind.
And with that it became apparent that my own free hand was not the only one at play. I felt her fingers wrap themselves around my thick hardness, the tips blindly but knowingly walking the trail of pulsing veins as my pounding heart fed the organ with which I fully intended to love her again.
Without a word it was she who communicated her thoughts, her wants. Smirking all too knowingly, Sara closed the gap so that we were gently pressed together as one, slid one covert leg underneath me, spread her thighs wide, and effortlessly rolled me on top of her so that I was in the position to enter her at will.
But we just lay there, accustomed to each other's respective frame and weight, playfully breathing into each other, drinking in the sight of each other's sleepy but loving expressions, and said nothing. All the while her hands were cupping my cheeks now, as we adored each other wordlessly.
2
'I've been thinking about Elaine,' mother said quietly.
Whatever change I sensed was abound, a change of mood, a change of mind, I chose to start as I usually meant to go on -- with humour.
'I'm right here, mum,' I responded, inferring of the implications. 'I'm right here, on top of you in our bed, and you're thinking of someone else?'
Sara giggled, slapped me playfully on one bare shoulder. I knew the score of course. Things were anything forgettable around here and getting more interesting by the day.
'You do know that I fully intend for you two to end up in bed together,' she said.
'Do you really think she wants me that way?' I asked.
'Do you like her that way?' she defected, at least for the meantime. My mother was not the type to ever leave questions unanswered.
'I'm feeling very preoccupied with the woman I love,' I declared and planted a welcomed soft kiss on her smiling lips.
'Which reminds me,' she responded and kissed me back before saying, 'get this inside me and come cuddle.'
Taking my length in hand and seductively swirling the swollen tip directly between her slick labia, she kissed me once again and hummed me the signal I needed to hear. I clenched my butt muscles, arched my back and used my middle weight to slide slowly into her, seeking the hot liquid centre radiating from within.
I spread my knees outward, my mother's thighs tilting upward with the curving of her hips so that I could hit bottom with ease. With that she moaned into my mouth, and we shared one more kiss before holding onto each other, cheek to cheek.
Ever so slowly when we enjoyed slow intimate cuddle sex, we would cradle each other's bodies and rock gently into each other, flexing the muscles of our sexes to tease each other, especially when we were as sensitive as we now were, following more vigorous sex.
We would just breathe into each other, whisper loves into each other's ears, kiss and gaze, and just revel in the fact that we were who we were. That morning was different, and because there were important questions to be asked and answered.
'So do you like her that way?' she asked again.
'I think you already know I do. But I've been thinking that we've yet to really gauge the feeling between us.'
'What do you mean?' mother asked.
I kissed her cheek and raised myself up a little so that I could penetrate her eyes as deeply as I was now penetrating her soaking vulva. My mother's pussy was completely friction free. Such was the level of wetness that our pubic mounds might as well have been French kissing. She groaned, her eyes rolling. My hungry lips caught her mouth wide open and I coaxed the tongue out of her mouth with my own, before playfully sucking on it.
All the while we screwed slow and easy, our hands needfully grabbing at each other's spare parts. Her hands went to my fleshy buttocks and kneaded them like dough. I did the same with her under me.
'I want you more than anything.'
'More than anything?' Sara asked, her brow arched above an expression that dared me to prove her wrong, like she knew something I didn't.
'Well...'
'I know for a fact that there's something else you want other than just me.'
Open minded as I was, I could prove nothing if I couldn't at least provide food for thought. With a wicked smile that I could feel tighten even the muscles at the back of my neck, I propped myself up onto my knees and stole two pillows from my side of the bed.
I slipped them under her bottom, causing her to whoop and giggle. God, the scent of her sex instantly filled my own depths with lust. As I bent to lap at her glistening pink sex with the pad of my tongue, earning me a violent tremble in both her body and her cries, I could feel the feverish heat from within her begging to be broken.
'What's that then?' she murmured, shaking as I licked her again and again. I smooched the hood of her swollen clit just the same as I would kiss her lips, just a taster for now because I had other plans.
I rose up again in full view before my mother, my rock-hard erection aimed down toward her dewy pouting flower. I was turning an angry purple, veins thick and prominent and straining to dive into her deepest recesses.
Eyeing her so that I could see in her hyper-aroused expression that she knew very well what I was about to do, I dipped down and began a deliberate and agonisingly slow plunge back into my mother, then pinning her knees back so that she could see it all happening.
'I want to see you make love to her,' I confessed to her helpless trembling moans, before angling upward to drag the head of my cock and taut foreskin over her sweet spot on the way out. And when I was at that point, halfway withdrawn, I held the angle and plunged back in.
Sara almost leapt off the bed, her legs kicking loose to hammer the mattress and push herself up and then back down onto me. With a lough laugh she begged, 'what the fuck was that?' with an astonished look before pulling her knees back into herself, signalling for me to repeat what I had just done.
So I did, over and over again, as we talked about our friendly neighbour Elaine, my mother's other lover.
'I want her to know it. I want her to be with the both of us if at all. I want to be there in the moment, but most of all I want to see my mum make love to her girlfriend.'
'Fuck!' Sara gasped as I maintained those slow, firm strokes into her.
'You swear a lot more than you used to,' I observed with a suppressed smirk.
She blushed at that. 'This is a bit too much for me right now, baby,' she panted, and I could tell she meant it. Her cheeks, her neck, her chest, were beginning to blush furiously, setting off a stark contrast against her smooth fair skin. 'Come and cuddle again?'
How could I refuse? I threw aside the pillows, letting my mother flatten out again, and lovingly resumed cradling her in my arms as we went back to making love.
We rolled, her on top of me now. She deliberately squished her breasts against me as her sex cradled mine deep within and she held me in her arms and smooched at my lips and cheeks.
'Well this might shock you, son, if anything still does,' Sara resumed, 'but I know damned well, for a fact, that Elaine is well up for getting fucked by you. And we already talked about the possibility of doing it together at some point.'
I was already struggling to keep our lovemaking going for as long as I could, as you may imagine. But out of nowhere, it seemed, I had the urge to blow my load, thinking about the amazing sex to come with both women.
I announced myself with a rising moan. Mum sat up, arched her back, and fixed her eyes on me, her own big orgasm seemingly planning on synchronising with mine. 'Are you coming?'
'Oh fuck yes,' I panted in the utmost urgency. I could already feel the heat surging up through my pipes, my cock swelling to stretch her coaxing vulva to bursting point. I rose up onto both elbows fast. Instinctively Sara pounced onto her haunches and tightly grasped the root of my cock.
It wasn't going to stop me. I swelled up fatter than I'd ever seen, my cock soaked with the juices of her heightened arousal. Every nerve in my glans screamed, every muscle tensed. When my mother's dripping pussy poised just at the tip of my cock, she let go and yelped, laughed adorably, as I began to spurt, splashing every which way -- coating her pussy, myself, splattering her swaying, glistening tits, landing all over my chest, even my face.
We were both in the middle of a shared orgasm, shaking and holding onto each other, mostly so that mum didn't fall over, but as I kept coming and spunking all over the both of us, she growled the sexiest growl and fed my pulsating cock back into her pussy and began to brazenly gyrate with it.
We were now slick inside and out with my cum and I was still going, tense and shaking, letting it all flow.
'Baby,' she purred, and then began to hiss and shudder to another orgasm right off the back of the one she was still having. I fucking envy women being capable of multiple orgasms, usually. But somehow Sara managed to coax another one out of me before the pleasure inevitably intensified to the point of pain.
We collapsed into each other, laughing, slick with so many natural salty bodily fluids, and before sleepiness began to creep back over us, we were kissing and licking the cum off each other, and then swapping it with our lips and tongues.
'I still cannot believe we do this,' she said after a long silence and began to giggle heartily once again.
'There's nothing I wouldn't do with you if you wanted it,' I said. It was a token statement, said in utter contentment.
'I know,' she said almost timidly, resting her head on my heaving chest, one hand lazily exploring the contours of my damp, heated body.
'I love you, mum,' I said, my eyes already closed. I needed this power nap. I was going to need a lot of rest soon enough.
'Before I forget, you should smooch at her clit just like you did to me just then. She'll go wild for that," my mother's voice said from further away.
A delicate kiss on my cheek was the last I remembered.
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